


hold on when you get love (and let go when you give it)

by roboticonography



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Holiday Fic Exchange, Marriage Proposal, five times blah and one time blah blah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 00:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17213582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roboticonography/pseuds/roboticonography
Summary: Five stupid times Tony has proposed, each more stupid than the last.





	hold on when you get love (and let go when you give it)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song of the same name by Stars.

1.

In Pepper’s first week of work, she is shocked to discover that her boss drinks shitty coffee.

He has an ancient, filthy, bargain-basement coffee maker on one corner of a seldom-used workbench. He’s modified it to be self-perpetuating, or course. Pepper’s instructions are to feed it a can of Maxwell House once a week.

( _Maxwell House_. She’s pretty sure she could sell those two words to the tabloids and buy a car with the proceeds.)

Coffee is one of the few luxuries Pepper can afford. Once she has the run of the upstairs kitchen, she quietly brings in her own French press, and her own burr grinder, and her own paper bags of beans.

She’s in Tony’s massive walk-in closet one morning, going over the day’s schedule with him while he picks out a tie, when Tony suddenly derails the conversation to ask, “What’s that?”

“Real coffee.” The retort escapes before she has time to check herself.

“Smells good.”

Which is funny, because she was just thinking the same thing about him. Tony always smells good—whether it’s soap-and-cologne smell, as now, or sweat-and-engine-grease smell, as after a day of tinkering in his basement garage.

His hand is already hovering over her stainless steel Stark Industries travel mug when he asks, “May I?”

She nods, and lets him take it.

He takes a sip, then makes such an inappropriate sound of enjoyment that Pepper feels her ears turn red.

“Oh, yeah. That’s a game changer,” he says. “I want you to get me like a case of this stuff. Today.”

“It’s expensive,” she warns, before realizing what a ridiculous thing that is to say to Tony Stark.

“How expensive could it be, Potts? It’s _coffee_. Is it filtered through twenty-four karat gold? Were the beans hand-ground by Cher? Am I paying you too much?”

“You’re not paying me nearly enough, and it’s imported from Italy.”

“My mom’s family were Italian.” With an astute look, he adds, “But you knew that.”

Pepper nods, because what is there to say? Maria Collins Carbonell Stark was a legend in the world of philanthropy - and a personal hero of Pepper’s. Her life story is a matter of public record and at least one Lifetime biopic.

Tony takes another sip from her travel mug and sighs, his eyes falling closed. “Where have you been all my life? Let's elope.”

“Mr. Stark,” she says, awkwardly, her colour rising. She’s trying to maintain some semblance of professional boundaries.

“Calm down, Moneypenny. I was talking to the coffee.” He grins. It’s impossibly charming, at least until he adds, “No offense, but you’re not really my type.”

 

2.

Two days after what they will later decide is the official start of their relationship, a series of candids turns up on JustJared.

The pictures appear to have been taken just after the media free-for-all about the disaster at the Stark Expo. Out of sight of the press, Tony had slung an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss into her hair. Pepper hadn’t been focused on who might be watching; she’d been thinking about his hands, and the solid warmth of his body against hers, and calculating how many more hours of public appearances they needed to make before they were entitled to some privacy. Leaning in to kiss him had seemed as natural as breathing—and, like breathing, impossible to stop once she’d started.

Between then and now, there have been several interviews, multiple sexy looks, infinite phone calls, two emergency meetings with the board, one spontaneous makeout session in the back of Tony’s Bentley (Pepper isn’t sure she’ll ever be able to look Happy in the eye again) and then, at last, a moment of respite in the New York penthouse (thank God for takeout). And now, these pictures.

Pepper swipes through the gallery, one image at a time. As annoying as it is that their privacy was invaded, it’s nice to have a record of that small, sweet moment. But then—

“Oh my _God_.”

Beside her, Tony sits up. His bed is approximately the size of her entire bedroom at home, and yet somehow, she always wakes wrapped in his arms. The newness of it is a factor, of course, but there’s something else—an unspoken acknowledgement of how close they’ve come to missing this, entirely.

Tony lifts one arm to scratch his tousled head and _honestly_ , it should be a crime to look that good first thing in the morning. “What?”

Wordlessly, she gestures to her phone.

He peers forward, resting his chin on her shoulder to squint at the screen. “Oh yeah, I saw that. We look great. It's a really flattering angle.”  
  
“A flattering angle of you groping my ass in public!”

He makes a face. “‘Groping’ makes it sound like I molested you on the subway. Not romantic.”

“Fine. Squeezing my ass in public.”

“Pfft. Barely. A case could be made for cupping, but—”

“ _Tony!_ ”

“Well, that’s it. We have to get married now.” His hand snakes under the covers and pinches her butt. “There's proof that I've made you unfit for every other man in the village.”

She swats him with a pillow.

 

3.  
  
“Nope.” She’s breathless, bathed in sweat, her hand buried in his hair. “Try me when you have pants on and I might—ah!—I might consider it.”

He raises his head to look into her eyes. His expression is soft, his eyes coal-dark; he’s so beautiful that she almost can’t bear to look at him directly. She suddenly wants very badly to say yes, but she suspects that could be the endorphin high talking.

“I’m holding you to that, Ms. Potts,” he murmurs, his beard scraping the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

She bites her lip around a wicked grin, and says, “Get back to work, Mr. Stark.”

 

4.  
  
“Are we married?” Tony slurs.

Pepper squeezes his hand. “No, Tony.” He shouldn’t even be awake this soon. She wonders whether she should get someone to page Dr. Wu. “Do you know where you are?”

“Venice,” he says, with absolute conviction.

“Not even close. You’re in the hospital. You had heart surgery.”

“We should be.”

“In Venice?”

“Married. Pepper, keep up.”

She snorts. “We can’t all be geniuses, Mr. Stark.”

“Let’s get the doctor to do it, surgeons can do that.”

“You’re thinking of captains.”

“Steve!” he bellows.

“ _Ship_ captains,” she clarifies. “And Steve’s not here.”

“This is why we need to be married, Pepper. You _know_ things. I mean, I know a lot of things, but you know all the rest. The rest of… things.”

She smooths his hair back. “What did I say before about your pants?”

“You wanna get in ‘em?”

Which—to be fair—she has said to him, on multiple occasions, if not this one in particular.

“I said you need to be wearing them when you propose.”

“Riiiight. Right.” He does sloppy finger guns and tries, unsuccessfully, to wink.

She leans down and kisses his cheek. “I love you very much, Tony. You know that, don’t you?”

He gives her a dopey smile. “Who wouldn’t?”

 

5.

With the benefit of perspective, Pepper has come to appreciate Christine Everhart. She, like Pepper, is a woman working to carve out space for herself in a male-dominated profession; also like Pepper, she’s good at what she does. Over the years, they’ve developed a mutually beneficial professional relationship.

So when they get the invite to appear on the _Christine Everhart Show_ , Pepper agrees to do it.

Pepper dislikes daytime television. She’s an excellent public speaker when she has notes in hand, but Tony is the one the camera loves, and he loves it right back.

Still, it’s one of the more fun appearances they’ve done as a couple. Christine is a good interviewer, Tony is smooth as silk and sticks to the talking points, and the Stark Industries swag they bring for the studio audience goes over well.

“Stark Tower was a big win for us.” Tony is at his most charming, in Pepper’s opinion, when his passion for a project shines through. “There’s nothing to stop Stark Industries going completely carbon neutral in less than five years. But the real beauty of it is how much of this tech is open source. It’s not about making money for us. It’s about creating a better world. A better future.”

Christine smiles. “So, Tony. What does your better future look like on the personal front? You two have been together a while now… Am I hearing wedding bells in the distance?”

“Well, I’m not the person to ask about that.” He swivels in his chair to face Pepper. “What do you say, boss? I’m game if you are.”

The audience _ooooh_ s.

Pepper pats his knee and forces a breezy laugh. “Promises, promises, Mr. Stark. Show me the ring and we’ll talk.”

Laughter and applause.

“Oh, you need the ring? You want me to put a ring on it?”

He’s not backing down, and he doesn’t look nervous. Pepper is filled with a sickening dread. She does not want to have to turn down one of Tony’s jokey proposals in front of a live audience and millions of TV viewers. People already think she’s an ice queen as it is.

Fortunately, Christine seems to pick up on something being amiss. “Speaking of jewellery,” she says quickly, “Pepper, I understand Tony gave you a very unique piece after his surgery.”

Pepper takes Tony’s hand, threading her fingers through his. “Yes, it’s actually one of a kind.” She can’t help smiling, because she really does love telling this story. “It all started with a gift I gave Tony, years ago, sort of as a joke...”

 

+1.  
  
“Potts, we have to stop meeting like this.” He grins, even though it hurts like hell to do it.

“Shut it.”

There’s something dripping into his eyes—sweat, he hopes. It stings, either way. He tries to move, prompting FRIDAY to helpfully start listing all of the possible injuries he has very likely sustained. He taps the earpiece to mute it.

“When my life was flashing before my eyes…”

Pepper squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, vigorously, like a prizefighter shaking off a punch. “Don’t you _dare_.”

“No, Pepper, listen, I—I realized something. We spent so much time not being together for no good reason.” The words are rushing out of him before he can reconsider. “I’m not getting any younger. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

She makes a clamping motion with her hand. “Shut. It.”

It costs him an effort, but he sits up, takes her hand in both of his. “I’m sorry, Pep,” he murmurs. “You deserve better.”

“I don’t want better. I want _you_.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Harsh.”

She gives a shaky laugh. “Ugh! You know what I mean.” She swipes at her eyes with the back of one hand.

“Look, it… it’s okay if you don’t want to get married. I mean, I—I get it.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she says, unexpectedly. “But you’ve only ever asked me in situations where your decision-making skills might be compromised. Or as a joke. Or on _national television_.”

“No, right. Gotcha.”

She caresses his cheek. “I love you. I love our life together. And I’ll sign the paperwork to prove it, Mr. Stark. You name the day.”

“Pep... did you just propose?”

Her smile is the purest thing he’s ever seen. “I still want the ring.”

“It’s in my nightstand.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know that too.”

He nods sagely. “See? I was right. You _know_ things.”

She hugs him fiercely and it hurts. Kind of a lot. But he wouldn’t dream of asking her to let go.


End file.
